


Little Red Corvette (You Need A Love That's Gonna Last)

by melancholymango



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Boy Keith (Voltron), Boss/Employee Relationship, Dirty Talk, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, One Night Stands, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sexual Tension, Single Parent Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 23:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholymango/pseuds/melancholymango
Summary: “God, are you trying to ruin me for all other men?” Keith’s legs are still shaking, spread out deliciously in front of Lance.There's a long pause where Lance debates what to say next, ponders where the line is that he's threatening to cross. He has no idea how their dynamic has shifted after this. He has his hopes, but he's not foolish enough to expect anything at this point.He bites his tongue for all of ten seconds before the truth spills out.“Is it selfish of me to answer yes?”--Lance is recovering from a divorce, learning to trust love again and put himself out there. Keith has never known love, real honest true love. He knows desire, he knows lust, he knows infatuation. Lance might just be able to teach him a thing or two about it, when circumstances bring them together unexpectedly.





	Little Red Corvette (You Need A Love That's Gonna Last)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hi. I feel like this story in particular needs an intro because it's very different to how I usually format things and write them? TO CLARIFY, it was originally supposed to be a twitter thread on my nsfw acc but surprise surprise!! It's too long to be a casual twitter thread and too short to be a normal oneshot, so here you have...... a really abnormally long headcanon.
> 
> The good news is if you guys like this, it took SO MUCH less work than a proper fleshed out oneshot does?? I've always wondered how to crack the code to writing fics that are under 10k and apparently it's called trying to format them for twitter.
> 
> I ended up going back and adding more details to spiff it up a bit, but it's basically just a couple hours work if I hadn't done that. Anyway, if u guys like this style of writing I can definitely do more of it whenever I have an idea that I'm fond of but don't feel like writing a whole Thing on. 
> 
> Also I'm going through an INTENSE Prince fascination right now. This song instantly made me think of klance.

Lance is a single father, after a long rocky road of a relationship that ended in divorce. He now has split custody of his four year old son. When Lance isn’t spending time with his baby boy, he’s overworking himself with long hours at the office. He’s the CEO of a business, one he’s built from the ground up with a world of obstacles facing him. He takes it personal now, it’s more important to him than anything else (which may have had a role to play in why his marriage ended in divorce).

Lance has mostly moved on from his ex, but he still misses the structure and the comfort of coming home to his whole family. Now he comes home to an empty house most nights, with his son staying at his mother’s place every weeknight while Lance works. It’s lonely. Lance is so lonely. But he’s terrified of being hurt again, of watching his life he worked so hard to build fall apart again, so he doesn’t try to meet anyone new.

Someone new comes into his life in a whirlwind whether he wants it to happen or not, though.

He’s had a long day of interviewing potential new hires and he’s just about to the end of the list of applicants, just a couple names left. He’s in the midst of quickly reading through the next one’s resume when the door to his office flings open. In walks Keith Kogane, who has next to no notable experience on his resume aside from a couple of months working as a bookkeeper for an auto shop. It doesn’t exactly translate into marketing experience, but the guy can probably use microsoft word and make a spreadsheet at least. Lance hopes.

And the thing is, before Keith walked into the room Lance had already made up his mind, more or less. He just wasn’t the right fit for the job, at least not when he was being pitted against all the people who had been interviewed earlier in the day. He didn’t stand a chance when they all had such solid references, it’s nothing personal.

It becomes something personal the very moment Keith sits down across from him, flashing a thousand watt smile that hits him like a punch to the gut. It’s all Lance can do to shake his hand and greet him like a normal human being.

Overgrown dark hair tucked back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, tattoos just barely visible underneath the cuff of the two-sizes-too-big suit he’s probably rented specifically for this interview, muddy combat boots that are so out of place inside an office building that it’s almost comical . Nothing about Keith matches the usual pattern Lance follows when hiring people.

But he’s so fucking adorable, unfairly so. Even though he’s entirely out of place and there’s no way on Earth he doesn’t realize that much, Keith carries himself with an air of confidence that’s unmatchable. He addresses Lance with respect, but he isn’t nervous around him or trying to play himself up as something more than he is. He’s honest, down to Earth, and surprisingly easy to talk to. More than once they find themselves off topic, talking about common interests.

It isn’t until they’re hugging goodbye (Lance has never hugged an applicant in his entire life, but Keith went in for the embrace and he wasn’t about to fucking say no, was he?), that Lance realizes he’s been played like a fiddle. Keith backs out of the hug with the warmest of smiles, hand lingering on Lance’s shoulder a second longer than casual.

“I really hope to hear from you again, Mr. McClain. If only just to have another conversation with you and learn more about you. Your commitment to growing this company and your work ethic is inspiring, honestly. That’s not me trying to suck up to you either, I’m not the kind of person to go out of my way to impress people. I just really mean it. I love what you do here. I love what you stand for. And I’d love the opportunity to work here and learn more about it.”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The door shuts behind Keith and all Lance can do is fall back into his seat, his entire face aflame. He buries his face in his hands, trying to ignore his rapidly beating heart. He feels like he’s on cloud nine right now. If he concentrates just so, he thinks he can still smell Keith’s cologne on his own suit. He’s pathetic. He’s a bisexual disaster. But most importantly, he’s smitten.

Needless to say, Keith gets the job.

\--  
  
Over the next few weeks, Lance spends as much time as he possibly can with the new hires to show them the ropes. He knows it isn’t really his responsibility, that he’s paying other people to do it for him, but he likes to make a personal relationship with every employee he hires. And if his relationship with Keith is more personal right from the start, well, no one calls him out on it at least.

The other new hires all shy away from Lance, too worried about making a good impression and appearing totally unwaveringly invested in nothing but their work. Keith isn’t like that, he actively tries to shadow Lance and watch him at work, always eager to learn from him.

Well, Lance tries to justify it as Keith being eager to learn, because he does pay attention constantly. But as time passes, Lance can’t help but notice that Keith really and truly does not put that much effort into his work. Lance knows what he’s capable of, he knows Keith is an incredibly smart man… he’s just selective about where his energy goes. If he isn’t personally motivated, he doesn’t try.

He doesn’t try to advance in his entry level position over the next three months, he doesn’t try to befriend any of his coworkers at all, and he doesn’t make any effort to stop stealing doughnuts from Lance’s supply in the break room. No one else would dare to steal food from the break room, let alone the ones marked with Lance McClain’s name, and yet…

Lance has to wonder if Keith is doing it on purpose, knowing full well that there are security cameras that give him away to the boss. It’s almost like he’s trying to get a rise out of Lance, to push his buttons and see how far his good looks and charming personality can really get him. 

The answer is pretty far apparently, given that Lance is a lovesick fool from the very start. 

Keith is far from wealthy, but immediately everyone in the office comes to know him by the classic car he drives. It’s a sexy, sleek 76' red corvette that slides around corners and into the parking garage like it fucking owns the place every morning. Lance later learns that Keith actually inherited from his father when he passed and it just adds another layer to Keith’s already confusing and fascinating character.

Everyone else in the office think they have Keith figured out right from the start. They think he's a classic bad boy that grew up without parental guidance. Troublemaker, risk taker, flirt. And they aren’t wrong in that regard, he absolutely is all of those things. He’s just so more than all of that. Lance knows he is.

Keith’s an angsty enigma with a mysterious past and walls built up around his heart. He’s the guy you hook-up with once for the best sex of your life and then think about for years after. He’s the bad boy next door from every teen rom-com ever… and Lance hates how much that’s all doing it for him, feels shame hot under his collar whenever he thinks about how much he'd love to let Keith have his way with him.

He's almost thirty! He should be better than this, should be looking for a nice stable person to settle down with. This dangerous boy shouldn't draw him in like a moth to a flame.

But Keith is everything Lance longs for. The danger, the thrill, the fun. They're all things that have been absent from his life for so long and he wants them back now.

\--  
  
Lance feigns indifference to the drama of his employees, but he's not oblivious by any means. He watches as Keith charms all of the women in the entire building, but doesn't pursue anything with any of them. And sure, in theory, Lance could believe that he's just being professional by not sleeping around with coworkers. But Lance isn't that stupid. Keith's the kind of guy that takes exactly what he wants, consequences be damned. So... he must not want them.

It's also sort of incriminating that Keith has always been exceptionally nice to Lance and Lance alone. At first he could have chocked it up to Keith fishing for a raise or trying to make sure his lackluster commitment to his work doesn’t get him fired. But it’s clear Keith doesn’t actually care about that stuff, not how he seems to care about making Lance laugh.

So, it goes beyond sucking up to the boss. Keith is almost... sweet. But only to Lance. No one else would ever believe him if he brought it up and he wouldn’t want to anyway. It's only ever when they're in private, the shift in dynamic they have behind closed doors is something between them and them alone.

Keith will stop by his office at lunch to ask if he wants a coffee from the shop down the street, leaning against the door frame with his hands awkwardly buried in his pockets. He'll hold the door open for Lance every morning and smile that lopsided little smile, eyebrows raised like he’s waiting on Lance to say something about it. And the compliments, dear god, they are practically never ending. In the beginning maybe they were strictly related to Lance’s work ethic and the business he’s built, but they quickly shift into less professional ones.

“Your hair looks so good today, Mr. McClain! You should wear it like this more often. Oh, what do you mean you just got out of the shower and didn’t have time to style it? Well, you really make it work for you!”

“That suit fits you_ really _ well, has anyone told you that?”

And later, when they’re a little closer and Keith has started to eat his lunch in the privacy of Lance’s personal office…

“You know, pretty much everyone in this building would kill to sleep with you. Men, women, all of them. I’ve heard them talking about it. God, it’s pretty much all they talk about.”

That one in particular catches Lance completely off-guard, has him choking on the breakfast sandwich he’d been in the middle of eating. Keith relishes in the reaction to his off-handed comment, a devious grin stretching across his lips. Lance shoots him a warning look.

“Inappropriate. I’m your boss, Keith.”

“What? I’m just repeating what everyone else is saying around the workplace.” Keith feigns total innocence, holding his hands up meekly. Lance would have been content to go back to eating after that, honest, but Keith continues in a quiet mumble under his breath anyway. “Not that I don’t mirror the sentiment, but at least I’m not talking about you behind your back about it.”

“Excuse me?” Lance croaks, once again struggling to down the lunch Keith picked him up a few minutes beforehand. Keith leans back in the chair across from him, his legs folded haphazardly in front of him, his uniform in dire need of a good ironing. 

“You heard me. Why make me repeat myself? You wanna hear me say it again?”

“Keith, come on.” Lance laughs it off, wondering if this is just one of those shared inside jokes they have with each other. They joke about flirting with each other, but it’s not the same thing as actually flirting with each other. Right? It’s all theoretical, it isn’t actually happening. Keith can’t be sitting there admitting that he wants to _ sleep with him _.

“I’m just saying.” Keith grins, chuckling along with him. Lance starts to relax then, figuring it must have been some sort of bizarre joke. No sooner has he gone back to eating than does Keith continue, refusing to change the subject. “The offer still stands though, seriously. Keep it in mind, no pressure.”

The offer still stands.

It was an _ offer _ . An actual genuine proposition that they could, in theory, sleep together. That Keith wants to do that with him. That Keith has been actively thinking about it for who knows how long. Keith… wants _ him _.

Keith is unfairly attractive despite the four year age difference between them and the fact their relationship really shouldn’t be straying so far from a professional one. Lance knows better than this. That doesn’t stop him from wanting it, though, from thinking about it until he’s imagined being with Keith in so many different ways that the reality couldn’t possibly be anything new.

He still wants to know. He wants it to be a reality.

\--

It feels good to be wanted by someone again. It's a rush and a confidence boost that Lance has been in need of for so long. Plus, now that Keith has put his cards on the table and really has nothing left to lose, he gets progressively more flirty at work. There’s absolutely no mixed signals when it comes to the kind of compliments Lance receives on a daily basis now, he knows exactly what Keith’s intentions are.

Against all odds, it actually works to make things even easier between them. Keith is always flirting with him, plainly and bluntly bringing up his attraction to Lance. He makes a joke out of it sometimes, but when Lance is too quick to dismiss him then Keith makes it his personal mission to convince Lance that he’s actually desirable again. He gets all genuine and earnest, his compliments taking on a much more romantic undertone than sexual. It’s too much for Lance, he’s too fucking old for this.

They’re practically inseparable around the office now, to the point that people have started to speculate despite neither of them being out to their coworkers. Lance makes the decision to set some boundaries then, about how much time they can actually spend together at work. He doesn’t want to cause any drama in the workplace.

And when he proposes these new boundaries, worried sick that Keith might take it personally and get angry with him, the only response he gets is the suggestion that they should maybe start spending time together outside of work. Keith brings it up with a shy little wink, implications clear. Lance doesn’t know how to respond, so he just nods.

The first time they meet up outside of work, it’s a Friday night and Lance is in the middle of cooking supper when Keith shows up at his door. It’s an hour later than they’d planned to meet, but Lance doesn’t care, he forgets about his annoyance the moment he sees Keith again. And because it’s the weekend, the house is a little more lively than usual. 

Lance introduces Keith to his son, uncertain what to expect from the interaction. Keith doesn’t exactly seem like the type to mesh well with kids, if Lance is being honest. It’s one of the few things that have him feeling hesitant about this whole thing. But when Lance introduces Damian to him, that much smaller hand wrapped around his as the four year old peeks up at Keith from behind Lance’s legs, the response is so different from what anyone could expect.

Keith kneels down to his height and makes a show of shaking the toddler’s hand to introduce himself, the kindest smile on his face as his voice goes softer than ever before. Damian isn’t exactly shy, he actually has a tendency to cling to anyone who shows him the barest hint of attention (wonder where he gets that from?), so when he spends the rest of the night hanging off of Keith it doesn’t come as a surprise.

It does come as a surprise just how well Keith goes along with it. 

He lets himself be dragged around the house by the child, sits there and plays Legos with him while Lance cooks, even lets Damian tie his hair up in twenty tiny ponytails that will be hell to get out. And Lance can hardly believe his luck, he really can’t. He keeps looking up from the meal he’s cooking, his gaze impossibly fond as he watches his son interact with Keith.

They go to the park after dinner. It’s Keith’s suggestion somehow, Lance isn’t sure how. But they’re there, running around after a too-eager toddler that’s determined to try every single thing he can at the playground. They manage to talk a little bit, but for the most part they’re just babysitting. And Keith doesn’t even complain, he looks just as happy to be there as he is any other day at work.

There's something about seeing stone-faced edgy Keith Kogane, covered in tattoos and piercings head to toe, leather jacket and ripped jeans, dark eyeshadow, knife in his back pocket… carrying a giggling kid around on his shoulders. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks must be aching, laughing and carrying on, acting like a fool with the toddler in the autumn leaves. 

Lance falls for him that day. He falls hard. 

\--

One night Lance is staying late after work. He doesn't think anyone else is there so he's singing under his breath, he's shrugged his jacket off and has his sleeves rolled up, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, tie hanging loose around his neck. He’s tired, but he’s determined to finish the project he’s been working on all day. Nothing could tear him away from his work at this point.

Keith did_ not _stay after work. He did, however, forget his wallet at work and is begrudgingly coming in to look for it at 8pm. He gets a little sidetracked when he hears the sweetest voice ever singing in Spanish. He has to stop and catch his breath because, no fucking way could he possibly be so lucky.

He's knocking on the door to Lances office in ten seconds flat, grinning like the cat who got the motherfucking cream. Lance answers the door visibly flustered, not expecting to be interrupted this late in the evening. Their eyes meet and instantly the energy is different from ever before.

It starts with a smirk, a playful glint in dark amethyst eyes, and then, “Hey, Mr. McClain, whatcha doing?” 

Keith invites himself inside. Sits on the edge of Lance’s desk and watches him work. Lance keeps biting his lip in thought, oblivious to how it drives Keith crazy. 

Keith starts to intentionally distract him with conversation, eager to win his attention back and bask in it. Lance isn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused by the lengths he's going to. He does have to get his work done though and he tells Keith as much.

And Keith tries to be good, he does. He even debates leaving, but he figures if he stays he might be able to convince Lance to let him buy them both dinner. So he waits, trying his damndest to be patient and ignore the want eating away at him. 

It works for a while. But then Lance starts humming under his breath and something in Keith snaps. He wants to taste that melody, wants to kiss those stupidly pretty lips, wants to take. God, he's wanted it so badly since the first job interview. The possibility of seeing Lance McClain on his knees for him is the sole reason Keith showed up to work all this time at all. 

Lance hears Keith's shoes hit the floor with a gentle thud and doesn't think anything of it. He won't look away from his work and get distracted again. That is, until he feels the telltale pressure of Keith's foot on his knee.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, Sir.” Keith answers, while sliding his sock covered foot higher up Lance’s thigh. That's an answer in itself really. And Lance lets him. He grits his teeth and leans back in his chair, a blush darkening his cheeks when that foot slides higher still. 

His work is immediately forgotten.

Soon Keith is rubbing between his legs with the ball of his foot, flexing his toes against the growing bulge in Lance’s dark slacks. Lance is refusing to look him in the eye, but he's making the hottest sounds. Long sighs and cinched groans that he's trying in vain to hold back. Keith is enraptured by each and every sound.

“You like that, Sir? Are you gonna get off with my foot on your cock? Dirty.”

“Keith.” Lances tone holds a warning. Keith ignores the warning. He reaches down and unbuttons his own jeans, pulling his cock out right there on the desk. He jerks himself off slowly, as he continues to follow the outline of Lance’s cock through his slacks. It's obvious now anyway, so hard and huge that Keith is pretty sure he can feel it twitching.

“Wanna fuck me against this desk, Mr. McClain? Put me in my place? Discipline me for all the rules I've broken that you've let me get away with up until now?”

“Fuck.”

Keith slides down off the desk, a predatory sort-of glint in his eyes as he settles on his knees beneath it. He tucks himself in close, nuzzling his cheek against Lance’s thigh, grinning coyly up at him. Lance eventually caves, lifting his hips and hastily shoving his pants down his legs, so hard that it almost hurts.

It gets a little desperate after that. There’s an electric energy between them, a spark that burns with intensity. Keith wastes no time in getting his mouth on him. He wraps his lips around Lance’s cockhead and fucking groans like he’s dying for it. Keith sucks him down to the hilt in no time at all, his movements almost greedy.

He sucks Lance off rough and sloppy, saliva dripping down the length of his cock as Keith’s lips glide easily over it. His hips are twitching in his office chair with the need to thrust up, to fuck into Keith’s throat and chase after the sensation each time it recedes. He hasn’t done anything like this in so long, he hadn’t realized just how much he needed it.

Granted, Lance doesn’t actually end up lasting all that long. Keith is anything but slow and gentle. Lance had been oh so right about Keith taking exactly what he wanted, however he wanted it. He takes Lance’s cock into his throat and chokes around it, hands clawing at Lance’s smooth thighs as he tries to force it deeper still.

It’s like he’s hungry, starving for it. He devours Lance, no patience whatsoever despite the fact they don’t really need to rush right now. Keith’s tongue is skilled and wicked, flicking through Lance’s slit and teasing him whenever Keith hasn’t got the whole of the massive cock shoved into his throat.

When Lance comes, he’s gripping the desk so hard that his knuckles have gone white. At that point, he can’t help but to jerk his hips with it, to use Keith’s mouth to get off. Keith takes it like a champ, like a seasoned pro. He hums around the head of Lance’s cock and then he swallows, the overspill obscene as it leaks white at the corners of his lips.

“Shit. That was… amazing. You good?”

“Never better.” Keith grins, winking up at him something implicative. He wipes his chin on the sleeve of his sweater, even licks his lips and moans at the taste. Lance’s cock gives a pathetic interested twitch where it's slowly softening against his thigh.

“You didn’t get off… What should I do for you?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

And it’s maybe the funniest thing about this entire exchange, the way Keith’s eyes widen with shock when Lance offers to return the favor. Now it’s Keith’s turn to be flustered and out of his element, apparently. Because for all his experience and confidence, he looks totally lost when Lance sets him down on the edge of the desk again, undressing him.

It’s sort of a mixture of Lance not doing this in a long while and the romantic in him, but he doesn’t move nearly as fast as Keith. He takes Keith into his mouth slowly, taking his time to lick around the tip, to really work Keith up and leave him wanting. Keith, again, is predictably impatient with the whole experience.

He leans back on the heels of his hands, attempting to set the rhythm himself by thrusting up into Lance’s mouth. The problem is easily solved, as Lance grips his hips and holds them in place, fingers pressing into his soft pale skin. Lance does take pity on him though, wrapping his lips around Keith’s cock properly.

Keith melts back into the desk then, leaning back and squirming around until he’s sending picture frames and books clattering to the floor. Lance doesn’t care. He’s entirely focused on the task at hand, at wrenching more of those punched-out gasps out of Keith’s throat. He makes the most beautiful needy noises. He’s so loud, moaning his way through the whole thing.

For how experienced Lance had always assumed him to be, Keith is delightfully responsive and sensitive to everything he does. It’s like no one has ever done this for him before, taken the time to draw it out and let him get lost in the sensation. Lance bobs his head slow and careful, tongue tracing the veins along the underside of his cock.

Keith is fucking trembling underneath him by the end of it, words slipping past his lips he doesn’t even seem to be aware of. They aren’t really coherent, but Lance catches the odd slip of his name, the rare plead for more. It spurs him on, makes him work that much harder to make Keith feel good.

Keith cries out Lance’s name when he finally comes. He throws his head back, hair fanning across the wooden desk, his chest covered in a sheen of sweat as it rapidly rises and falls again. His hands reach down blindly, sliding across the flat surface of the desk, and Lance grabs on with his own and squeezes. 

Keith hangs on for dear life as he shudders through his high, giving tiny little thrusts of his hips now that Lance isn’t holding them in place. Lance does his best to swallow, but it’s been a while and if he spits it out into a tissue no one has to know. Certainly not Keith, who’s panting like he’s run a marathon, totally out of it as he comes back down.

“How was that, baby?” Lance might be the slightest bit smug, he tries not to show it. But Keith just looks so deliciously out of it, like he’s had the best experience of his entire fucking life, and Lance really can’t help but take that as a compliment. He’s glad, wholeheartedly, that he made Keith feel so good.

After, once they’ve both had a chance to calm down, Lance gathers Keith’s clothes up and hands them to him. Keith dresses in shy silence, uncharacteristically quiet. There’s a couple times where it looks like he’s going to say something, but ultimately he keeps his mouth shut other than a simple goodbye. Lance wishes he knew what he was thinking.

Does he want this to happen again as badly as Lance does? 

\--

Lance comes into work the next morning with a smile plastered to his face that he can't shake. His heart is racing as he looks forward to seeing Keith again. It's been such a long time since he's felt like this. Keyed up and hopeful. It’s the official start of something new, something they’ve been dancing around for so long without a label. Lance wants it so feverishly it almost hurts.

When Lance walks through the rows of cubicles he immediately notices that Keith isn't there. He doesn't think anything of it, it's not unusual for Keith to be late to work. It’s times like these that he wonders how many of his employees notice the unfair treatment and feel spiteful toward Keith for getting away with so much. Lance cringes inwardly, making a mental note to give them all a raise or an office party for dealing with him. 

Keith doesn't show. Not once that day. Sure, he can be a bit of a slacker, but he's never skipped work entirely before. Lance can't help but worry, wondering if he made it home alright the night before. He was definitely fucked-out and a little bit exhausted looking when he left the office. And everyone knows he isn’t the safest driver around.

He tries to call. He sends an email. No responses whatsoever. The next day is more of the same and Lance is starting to take it personal at this point. He wonders if he overstepped a boundary and did something inappropriate, even though Keith had made it very clear that he wanted this as badly as Lance did all along. There were no blurred lines, everything had been explicit in nature, clear as day in intent.

Lance is worried, though. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this thing before it even has a chance to truly start. Keith is so important to him already, he doesn’t really know what to do all day long at the office. He can’t work without the soundtrack of Keith’s chatter in the background, going on about nothing in particular.

And no one else in the whole office has any of Keith's contact information so no one has any answers. And damn it, he cares! He cares about that little jerk more than he'd like to admit. 

\--

That's exactly why it hurts so much when he takes his son out to dinner that night and sees Keith sitting at the bar, perfectly healthy, smiling and laughing with another man. Damian doesn’t notice him there, thank god, because there’s no way he could begin to explain what’s going on to his four year old. He doesn’t even fully understand it himself. All he knows is that it hurts, it stings something awful in a place that he’s only just opened up to feeling again. 

Lance feels so very stupid.

He tries to ignore the elephant in the room, the weight settled too heavy on his chest. He puts all of his effort into focusing on his baby boy instead, fawning over Damian the whole meal. This was supposed to be a fun night out for them after all, they don’t exactly see each other as much as Lance would like them to. The moments they do have together Lance wants to make special, to make them memorable. 

But he can't help it. His eyes keep wandering in that direction, watching Keith laugh that same bright and airy laugh with a stranger, watch as he slides his body closer and tangles their legs together. He’s handsy and flirty, hanging off the other man. He comes on strong, his intentions clear, his words far too sweet. Lance avoids his gaze, sinks lower in his seat.

It’s entirely chance that Lance runs into him later. He’s in the washroom washing Damian’s hands off when Keith comes stumbling in, noticeably tipsy and giggly because of it. He’s alone now, thankfully, Lance isn’t sure he could handle watching him all over that man anymore. Keith doesn’t see him at first, heads straight to the urinals.

It’s not until Lance is trying to sneak out the door, his hand clasped tightly around his son’s and dragging him along a little too fast to be casual, that he makes the mistake of looking back at Keith. Their eyes meet this time, for the first time that night. Keith’s widen in shock. Lance flinches at the pity in his gaze. He needs to_ leave _.

“Lance… I didn’t expect to see you here.” Keith explains, speaking so slowly. He takes a careful step closer and Lance retreats another, wishing more than anything that he could have made it through the door unnoticed. Keith looks like he’s trying to approach a spooked animal, his hands held out in front of him, all too ready to perform damage control. Lance blinks back angry tears, wishing he wasn’t the kind of person to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“I didn’t expect to see you again at all, if it helps any.”

“Look, I can explain.” Keith says hurriedly, choking the words out so quickly it’s almost desperate. Lance just shakes his head though, even as Damian starts to tug on his hand in an effort to go see his new friend again.

“Don’t bother.” Lance picks his son up, holding the toddler on his hip. “And don’t bother coming back to work either, if you were planning to.

This time he doesn’t look back.

\--

Later that night, when Lance is tucking Damian into bed and reading him a book, the events of the night catch up to him in the worst way. The toddler yawns a long yawn, curling closer to Lance’s chest and grabbing a fistful of his sleep shirt. He grins sleepily up at his father, his stuffed shark clutched in his hands.

“Papa, when will Keith come over again? I want to build a tower with him next time.” Damian says it so innocently, so blindly certain that there will of course be a next time. Who knows, maybe Keith even promised him one. And why would he have any reason at all to believe that Keith might break his promise? He trusts blindly and wholly. 

“I don’t know yet, we’ll have to wait and see, alright?” Lance dismisses the question quickly, forcing a tense smile. He isn’t sure how much longer he can do this. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the child’s forehead. “You get some sleep now, okay? I love you.”

And after Lance has had a long evening of trying to appear completely unaffected in front of the impressionable gaze of his son, he breaks down. He curls up in his bed and cries, until there are fat ugly tears covering both of his cheeks. He doesn’t remember heartbreak hurting quite this badly, but it must have. It’s just worse now, to be kicked when he was already down.

He was stupid to get his hopes up, to believe for even a second that he was what Keith wanted.

\--

Lance doesn’t hear from Keith again after that. He stops going to that pub altogether, even though it used to be his favorite place to eat. He throws himself into his work, much like he had during the divorce. All of his employees notice the shift in mood, the tension whenever Lance walks into the room, the backslide of progress. 

He hates himself for getting so affected by it, he does. He’d worked so hard to convince himself that he was fine with being alone, happy that way even. Then Keith had come along to ruin the illusion he’d worked so hard on, and for what? Clearly he had no intentions of staying, not for a second.

\--

He’s driving home from work one night, a few weeks later, exhausted from the stress of overworking himself to ignore his emotions. In all honesty, he’s at risk of falling asleep behind the wheel, and he really just wants to get himself home. But then he sees it, out of the corner of his eye while he’s driving past…

That obnoxious scarlet red Corvette. It’s parked on the side of the road, outside a different bar from the last time. Sexy and sleek just like Lance remembers it, infuriating, and God, Lance has never wanted to slash someone’s tires in his life but right now he’s tempted. Before he can stop himself, he pulls into the parking spot beside it.

He heads into the bar with a scowl on his face, no idea what his intentions actually are. All he knows is that he’s pissed off, and for once in his life he’s allowing himself the right to feel it. He finds Keith easily enough, wearing a leather jacket and cut-off jean shorts, leaning over the bar and flirting up one of the clean cut (definitely married) men.

Lance slides into the stool on the opposite side of him, watching him in the act. Keith is fucking good at this, all breathy laughter and batting eyelashes, flipping his hair back over his shoulder and popping his hip out. Lance glares at him. Orders a drink because he knows he’s gonna need it tonight.

Keith’s potential hook-up ends up being a bust, the man gets nervous when Keith comes onto him too strong, no doubt feeling guilty about the wife he has waiting at home if Lance could guess. He leaves in a hurry and Keith slumps back into his seat with a sigh, rolling his eyes.

“Damn, I could’ve sworn you had him.” Lance says conversationally, tipping his glass back to down the rest all at once. Keith jumps at the voice, flipping around to look at him. His eyes are comically wide, cheeks dusted with a blush.

“Lance? What are you-”

“So, tell me, is this how you spend all your nights?” Lance teases, flashing his teeth in a cruel smile. It’s a low blow, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s mad. He’s never been so angry. Keith rises to the challenge easily.

“I don’t need to fucking take this.” Keith snaps at him. He flags down the bartender and orders a beer, taking a good long swig before acknowledging Lance again. He's still angry though, eyes narrowed as he takes them over Lance’s form. “I don’t owe you anything, Lance.”

“You're right. You don't owe me anything.”

“So why are you here? Bothering me while I'm so very clearly busy?” Keith says, obvious implications behind the words. The grin he's wearing is a vicious one, like he already knows he has the upper hand. Lance scowls deeper, eyes flitting away.

“I want another chance.”

“Excuse me?” Keith stutters, adorably caught off guard. Lance sees his opening, that crack in the carefully constructed act Keith has developed. He can't back down now.

“To hook-up with you.” Lance clarifies, sounding far more confident than he really is. He’s riding on pure adrenaline as he looks into those dark eyes. There’s a level of intrigue there, a sick curiosity toward the proposal. “Now that I know what your deal is.”

“You can’t be serious.” Keith laughs out loud, throwing his head back like it’s a joke. He realizes it isn’t after a few seconds and sinks in on himself. Confused. His eyes search Lance’s for answers, eyebrows furrowing together.

“It won’t be the same as last time.”

“Oh, really? What are you gonna do that’s so different this time, hm?”

“I’m gonna fuck you.” Lance states plainly, his tone detached, almost cold. “The way you think you want it. Hard and fast. I’ll give it to you, pin you down and make you take my cock. I won’t be gentle, I won’t worry about how it feels for you. I’ll use you to get off like all the other men do. That’s what you like, isn’t it? Being treated like a whore?”

Keith recoils like he’s been struck, nostrils flaring in anger. He grabs his coat up off the stool, shoving it on hastily and making to leave. He grumbles under his breath before finally turning to face Lance again, eyes aflame. His hand darts out before Lance can react, slapping him plain across the face. The sound echoes around the room. Lance sits there, stunned. 

“You’re an asshole, Mr. McClain.”

Keith storms out of the building and Lance hesitates, wondering if he really has done it this time and ruined everything between them for good. He sinks his head into his hands, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s swamped with regret, but he can’t deny the thrill it’d given him to see Keith again. The tension is still there, the spark, the electricity between them.

Lance runs after him. How could he not? He gets to his feet and runs for the exit, darting out into the dark alley and nearly crashing into the figure standing outside the door. He scrambles upright, coming face to face with Keith’s flustered face. Lance starts to smile before he can stop himself.

He’d been waiting. Keith waited for him. Keith wanted Lance to follow after him, he was just too proud to admit it. 

“Lance.” Lance says, panting to catch his breath. He straightens up, puffing his chest out with a grin. Keith glowers at him in silence. “I’m still Lance. Call me Lance.”

Keith doesn’t hit him again, so that’s a plus. He does, however, grab his face with an urgency that borders on painful and pulls him in for a kiss that must leave bruises in its wake. He kisses Lance like he owns his mouth, claims it with teeth and tongue.

“Fuck you.” Keith hisses into the kiss. His hands are on the move though, undoing Lance’s jeans and dipping inside. He gets his hand on the prize and squeezes Lance’s rapidly hardening cock, just rubbing at it and feeling it fill out in his palm as they kiss. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“And you’re a brat.” Lance responds with a short laugh, kissing back just as eagerly. His hands fall to Keith’s hips and he walks him back to the brick wall, crowding him against it. Lance grinds his hips into Keith’s, uncaring who sees them like this, dry-humping in an alley.

Lance pulls away first. “So? Are we doing this?”

“This is the last time.” Keith tells him, panting into the curve of his neck. His fingers are wound tight into Lance’s shirt, holding it so tightly it’s obvious that he doesn’t want Lance to leave, that he’d never wanted it at all. “We go our separate ways afterward.”

“Deal.” Lance grins. After that he expects Keith to lead the way to his car, or at the very least the closest bathroom. Instead, Keith turns around and leans against the wall, pushing his ass out toward Lance.

He pulls his too short shorts aside, revealing the pucker of his asshole. Lance's cock gives a condemning throb inside his boxers. Keith looks back at him expectantly, digging a lubed condom out of his back pocket. And it's so obvious that this is exactly what he was prepared to do tonight. Sure, he’d probably intended it to be a little bit more detached and anonymous, but the act is the same. He would let a stranger do to him exactly what he’s offering Lance now.

Keith just wants to be fucked, he doesn’t care how, where, or who does it. He’ll let himself be fucked against the brick wall of an alley, fully clothed, where anyone could see him moaning for a cock up his ass. It's obscene. It's fucking hot. Lance wishes he was depraved enough to go along with it.

Especially as Keith starts to play with himself, sinking a finger into his hole with a needy little whimper. He starts to thrust it in and out, the slick squelch of lube audible in the night air.

“Fuck, it feels so good. I need you, Lance, want you inside of me so bad. I'm already stretched, I did it before I left home. You could slip right in.”

“Not here.” Lance grits out, with some difficulty. Keith looks disappointed but Lance isn't accepting constructive criticism right now. Not when he can hear voices of people approaching the alley. “Take me home, let me fuck you how you deserve.”

Keith nods, eyes determined

\--

Lance doesn’t really realize the connotations of going home with Keith until he’s there, climbing into that fucking godforsaken car. He slides into the leather seat of the Corvette with a scowl, hating the way his stomach swoops low with lust when Keith revs the engine and spins out of the parking lot far too quickly. 

Keith drives like he fucks, predictably. He has no patience, no respect for rules, no regard for anyone on the road but himself. More than once, Lance catches himself gripping onto the door for support. But Keith notices every time, smirks over at him and gives a chuckle low under his breath. So Lance tries to play it off as nothing at all when Keith takes the next sharp turn doing 100mph.

Keith’s apartment is actually nice. It’s well-kept and clean, all dark furniture and dim lighting, the smell of generic apple cinnamon candles filling the room. Lance doesn’t exactly have much time to really observe and appreciate his surroundings though, because Keith is immediately all over him. His clothes are practically ripped from his frame in the entryway.

“Come on, fuck me.” Keith demands, hands running over Lance’s chest appreciatively. He’s looking up with wide, pleading eyes. Lance isn’t sure he could say no, even if he wanted to right about then. He gets his hands under Keith’s thighs, hoists him up until he can wrap those muscular legs around Lance’s hips.

Lance stumbles blindly down the hall, attempting to hold Keith to his chest the whole way. The other boy isn’t cooperative though, he’s writhing in his arms, attempting to rub up against him for any friction at all. Keith offers the vaguest huffs of directions between kisses and nips to Lance’s collarbones, and eventually they find their way to the bed.

Lance tosses Keith onto the mattress haphazardly, watching his body bounce against the sheets before settling. Immediately, Lance clambers on top of him. He grips his thighs and shoves them apart, making room for himself there. He slots their bodies together, rolling his hips between Keith’s legs and teasing what he really wants.

Keith arches up against him so beautifully, their bodies moving together so smoothly. Lance would have been content to keep that up for a while longer, but Keith is as eager to move things along as always. He shoves a condom into Lance’s hand, urgency thinly veiled.

Lance growls in annoyance at being rushed along, tearing it open with his teeth. He kicks his boxers off and slides it onto himself, and by then Keith is completely naked and ready beneath him with the bottle of lube. Lance snatches it out of his hand and gets to work.

He stretches Keith as thoroughly as he can, taking it slow and careful, but it’s not exactly an easy task when the other party is constantly trying to spear himself on his fingers. He’s rocking his hips, trying to fuck himself on Lance’s hand, whether he’s aware of it or not. And sure, he's already loose from stretching himself earlier, but screw Lance for being concerned when he knew he was probably about to fuck Keith as hard as he could. 

Eventually, Lance just gives in. He crawls back up the bed, kissing along Keith’s abdomen as he goes, even adding a few nips along the way because Keith seems to like the rough handling. He practically drags Lance in the moment it’s possible, legs wrapping around his hips.

Lance rolls his eyes, reaching down to line himself up with that greedy hole. He teases Keith with just the tip at first, sinking in just enough for him to feel the stretch before easing back out again. Keith has started to fist at his hair, pulling on it in lieu of using words to express his frustrations.

When he finally does push himself in and bury his cock inside of Keith to the hilt, the reaction is almost otherworldly. Keith tenses up around him, the most beautiful mewl slipping past his lips before he can help it. And then immediately he’s rocking back on it, gasping and drooling for it, flexing his hips against Lance’s when Lance refuses to move so soon into filling him.

Lance can’t help but get annoyed with him. He picks Keith’s hips up, placing them in his lap and pulling Keith up to sit there, facing him. Keith ignores the intimacy of the position, instead gripping Lance’s shoulders and immediately starting to ride him for all he’s worth. 

He bounces on Lance’s lap, shoving his face into the crook of his neck. Lance wraps his arms around him, even as Keith’s nails dig into his skin painfully, his teeth scraping across his neck in a loose bite. He’s fucking feral, honestly, but Lance holds him as tenderly as he can manage anyway.

“Close.” Keith chokes out, already. He’s probably used to that though, quick and hasty fucks, usually in places that aren’t at all intended for sexual encounters. Lance can’t really blame him for not lasting long as it is. So he just smiles, pressing a kiss to Keith’s temple and brushing his hair back.

“What can I do to help get you there, huh?”

“Just-” Keith cuts himself off with a wrecked little whimper, when Lance hits the right spot entirely by accident. Lance is an attentive lover though, always has been, and it takes nothing for him to take the hint and keep thrusting at that same good angle.

He even pushes Keith down into the pillows, leaning over him and fucking him properly. The wet drag of his cock against Keith's inner walls is amazing. Lance grins to himself as he picks up the speed, still hitting that spot with unforgiving accuracy. “Ah! Keep doing that, please, pl-”

“Anything else?” Lance asks, the slightest bit smug now. Keith nods his head, but no words come out, so Lance slows his pace a little bit until Keith is complaining loudly about it. He does stop long enough to actually answer the question, though. “Dirty talk. Call me names.”

Lance hesitates, but ultimately he gives in and obliges the boy. He keeps fucking him hard enough to make the bed shake and hit the wall, but its background noise to the wet slap of skin and the sound of Keith's yelling.

“Is this all you’re good for? Getting fucked? Spreading your legs for any man that looks twice at you? Such a slut, aren’t you?” Lance grunts out, losing himself in sensation. Keith nods into his neck almost eagerly, lifting his head out of the pillows. 

“Yes! Yes, I'm a greedy dirty whore. Made to be split open on your cock.” Lance's hips slow and he ignores the corresponding complaints. He can't help it, hearing Keith talk about himself that way is anything but hot. It sounded too real, in a way. Like Keith is maybe in this position saying these things more than Lance could ever know.

And he doesn't want that at all. He doesn't want to be another one of the pervy old men that capitalize on Keith’s obvious insecurities, his desperation to be desired. Lance frowns.

It doesn’t matter that Keith is fucking eating it up, loving every second of it. It doesn’t feel right to Lance, not how sex should feel. Maybe he really isn’t the type of partner Keith wants, if he can’t meet such a simple request. He’d been so determined to prove himself, but he can’t do it. Maybe Keith was right to call it off when he did, if what he wants is so different from what Lance is capable of giving.

Lance tries to improvise.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing so good. Taking my cock so well. Like you were made for it.”

“So pretty, so pretty when you beg for it. I’ll give it to you, anything you want.”

“God, you feel so hot inside, so tight. Gonna make me come, aren’t you? Good boy.”

And, against all odds… Keith doesn’t complain. He doesn’t stick his nose into the air and immediately tear into Lance for being too weak to give him what he really wants. He doesn’t make a big show of teasing Lance. He doesn’t act like he’s better than this. And so, Lance’s confidence continues to grow.

“You like that, kitten? You like hearing how good you’re making me feel, how fucking sexy you look right now on my cock?” Lance teases, reaching down to wrap a hand around Keith’s swollen cock, where it hangs between his legs. He jerks Keith off slow and steady, rubbing his thumb against the head.

Keith keens like he’s dying for it, arches up against Lance again and throws his head back. He rolls his hips just a couple more times and before Lance can even fully expect it, Keith is tensing up and falling over the edge just like that. A couple words of praise and he can’t even fucking control himself. Keith comes in streaks across the bedspread, come shooting across the bed in ropes.

Lance comes embarrassingly quick after that, pretty much the second he feels Keith’s body tighten around him. It’s just too much, too warm, too wet, too inviting. He buries himself inside one last time and comes in the deepest parts of Keith, filling the condom.

They stay like that for a while, simply breathing together. It’s strange, how Lance is the closest he’s ever been to Keith, and he can still feel so impossibly far away. He can feel Keith’s heartbeat, feel his insides pulsing around him, and the connection is still so superficial.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.” Keith grins dopily afterward, pulling off of Lance’s cock and flipping over. He stretches out across the mattress with a content sigh. Lance nods, uncertain what to do with himself now. 

Keith rolls over to face away from Lance, swaddling himself in blankets “There’s diet coke in the fridge, if you wanna grab one on your way out.”

And maybe it’s partially Lance’s fault, for hearing that shred of a compliment and getting his hopes up that something had actually changed between them. But it hasn’t, and Keith practically shooing him out the door proves that he can’t fix this. He can’t force it to work between them. 

He can’t tame someone that doesn’t want to be tamed.

He can take his frustrations out while he still has the chance, though.

“Roll over.”

“Excuse me?” Keith scoffs, looking like he’s about to argue. The very second he hears an ounce of dominance in Lance’s voice he has to fight back against it, and it makes his problem with authority so very obvious. Lance doesn’t give him the chance to argue with him, just grabs his hips and manhandles him into position on his stomach. Keith puts up a halfhearted fight, before Lance reaches for the lube again. 

Immediately, Keith goes stock still, even his breath catches. “Oh, fuck me. Lance, come on, are you really doing this? I can’t go again, I can’t, I just-”

“Shut-up. You love this, don’t you? This is what you wanted when you came strolling into my office late at night, getting me all riled up. You wanted me to take what I wanted from you and so I will. And you’ll thank me for it afterward, won’t you?”

“Lance!” Keith cries out something awful when Lance’s tongue first darts out across his hole, curled to a point and prodding. Lance can’t help but laugh, can only imagine how the vibrations of that must feel because it’s all Keith can do to keep his legs from snapping together to avoid the overstimulation.

Lance laps at him a few more times, making sure his rim is good and stretched out, pink and puffy from their earlier coupling. Finally, Lance applies more pressure, licking inside of him in one smooth curl of his tongue. Keith moans like a whore, pressing back against the sensation immediately.

“Please! Fuck, Lance, just like that!” Keith is a screamer, apparently. Lance had known he was loud, but this is something else entirely. He’s writhing against the sheets, attempting to squirm away and then pressing back just as quickly, torn between chasing the pleasure or escaping it.

“You’re awfully sensitive down here, sweetheart.” Lance points out, licking his lips. He rubs two fingers over Keith’s rim, sinking both inside of Keith at once. He makes a space between them, crudely spitting right into the mess of lube and saliva already inside of Keith’s hole.

“Ahh, I'm not used to it.”

“You mean to tell me that your one night stands don’t do this for you often?” Lance teases knowingly, fucking his fingers into Keith's sloppy hole. 

“You fucking know they don't.”

“Poor baby. Nobody has taken care of you properly in so long.” Lance soothes him with a soft voice, running his hands over Keith's ass appreciatively. He buries his face between Keith's cheeks, shoving his tongue in deep inside of him and fucking him with it. 

After that, all bets are off, really. Keith gets his knees underneath himself and rocks back against Lance’s face, chasing after it and begging for more. So Lance gives it to him, licking inside of him again and eating him out with fervor, until Keith is shaking and trembling like a leaf.

And when he eventually comes, tears streaking down his face from overstimulation and the brutal onslaught of neverending pleasure, Lance feels it in the way Keith’s body tightens up around his tongue, a splash of wetness hitting his hand a moment later. Keith slumps forward after that, collapsing.

Lance leans back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“God, are you trying to ruin me for all other men?” Keith’s legs are still shaking, spread out deliciously in front of Lance. Lance hums in consideration, reaching forward to use his thumb to smear more of the saliva across the pucker of Keith’s hole, pushing it back inside.

There's a long pause where Lance debates what to say next, ponders where the line is that he's threatening to cross. He has no idea how their dynamic has shifted after this. He has his hopes, but he's not foolish enough to expect anything at this point. 

He bites his tongue for all of ten seconds before the truth spills out. 

“Is it selfish of me to answer yes?”

And just like that, Keith tenses up. He pushes up onto his arms, looking over his shoulder at Lance with a tight knit frown. He looks visibly uncomfortable all of the sudden, despite spending so long basking naked in front of Lance before. 

“Lance.”

“What?” Lance huffs, already on the defensive by default. He sits up in the sheets, feeling small and out of place in Keith's bed now. “What's so wrong about me wanting you all to myself?”

“Come on, you can’t be serious.”

“Why can’t I?”

“I’m no good at that… stuff. I don’t do relationships.” Keith mutters, averting his eyes uneasily. He gathers the blankets around his shoulders. “Do I really look like the kind of guy you want to start something serious with? Really? I think we both know how that would end.”

Lance knows that the question is supposed to be a rhetorical one, is supposed to reference the way Keith usually looks on a daily basis. Wearing all black and scowling at any given moment. A young adult that never grew out of his teen angst phase.

But right now, it's impossible to see him like that, when he's sitting there naked in the sheets, messy sex hair and tear stains on his cheeks. Lance just wants to hold him, nothing else really matters. The urge to comfort is so strong it almost overrides the defense system Lance has in place to attempt to protect himself from getting hurt again. He’d throw himself into the pain and hurt of heartbreak all over again if it meant comforting Keith right now.

“Yeah, if you go into it with that attitude.”

“So what? You're gonna sit here and shame me now? After you took exactly what you wanted from me? Wow, that’s_ so _original, no one has ever talked down to me after sleeping with me before.” Keith’s tone is cruel. “I thought you were supposed to be different, special. At least I’m honest about what I want and who I am. What the hell do you want, Lance?”

“You!” Lance hisses, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t care how, Keith. I just care about you, a lot, more than you seem to be capable of understanding. I don’t care if we have sex or not, it was never about that for me. It sucks to see that was all it was ever about for you.”

There’s a long pause then, as Keith sits back and really processes his words. He looks so very perplexed, like it’s a riddle he just can’t solve. Lance thought he was being pretty straightforward about it all, but Keith is lost all the same. This is all new to him.

“You really think we could work, don't you?” Keith asks finally, his voice so small.

“You really don't?” Lance can't help it, the vulnerability is obvious in his voice too. Keith shrugs his shoulders noncommittally to dodge the question. That’s answer in itself. “There are certain appeals to having the same partner longer than one night, Keith. Having somebody that cares about you, that wants you to be happy, that puts your needs first… I don’t get why that’s so terrifying to you.”

“It's not about that. I'm not scared. I just don't _ want _ it.” Keith is glaring at him now. He rolls out of bed, angrily shoving his shirt on over his body. He turns around once he's dressed fully, arms crossed over his chest and lips pouting. It's clear that he wants Lance to leave now.

Lance can't bring himself to gather his pride and go though. Now that Keith isn't clinging to him, he can actually look around the room he's in. There are posters on the wall of various bands, tiny knick knacks and souvenirs cluttering every surface, a pile of sketchbooks on his desk. 

It's infuriating, to see so much about this boy and still know nothing, despite everything they've gone through together. It was always surface level with Keith. He was handsome and so much fun to be around, but Lance knows nothing about his hobbies or his interests. He wants to know him so badly, but Keith won't let him.

“Why… don't you want it?” Lance asks, struggling to keep his voice from breaking.

“Because it never lasts.” Keith tells him, his tone vicious. He’s cornered and vulnerable when it comes to this subject, and it’s clear he hates every second of it. “I’ll get my hopes up and then it’ll all fall apart and you’ll leave. Everyone always leaves. So I leave them before they get the chance to hurt me.”

“Keith.” Lance whispers, voice soft. He doesn’t want to push Keith too far and risk losing him forever, not when they’ve only just started to get back on good terms. But damn it, he can’t sit here and pretend he doesn’t care about Keith like that. Every instinct he has is screaming at him to cuddle up to and comfort the man, but he knows it wouldn't be received well. 

“You don't need to baby me, alright? You're only like four years older than me and you're not exactly the poster child for pristine coping mechanisms either. I've heard about the way you overwork yourself when you're stressed, I've seen it in action.”

“I’m not babying you! I care about you and don’t want to hurt you! What’s so confusing about that?! I’m being careful with you because I care!”

“Well, I don’t! Not in the same way!” Keith yells back at him, bickering at this point. It’s said in the heat of the moment, shallowly without meaning. It still stings though, has Lance eyeing the door with longing. He doesn’t know how to handle this. It was never like this with Allura, things were always so easy, so much easier. They were so easy he didn’t even notice when they ceased to exist between them at all, when the feelings faded out of the equation there was no real loss, it didn’t change anything.

With Keith it’s the opposite, it’s all cards in at all times, it’s untamed and raw emotions spilling over from both sides and mixing into something messy in the middle. It’s passion burning so hot it has potential to burn. 

Lance has been silent for so long that Keith seems to have had time to reconsider his words. He looks sheepish all of the sudden, even though he’s still scowling and trying to appear tough. He huffs out a humorless laugh, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not a child, Lance. I know what I want, this is it. I want casual sex. It’s fun for me!”

“Yeah, for a while. It's fun until you go your separate ways and you have to fall asleep all alone with your insecurities and the void you’re trying to fill, left there wondering why you aren’t good enough to be more than a cheap one time fuck.” 

Keith sits back down on the edge of the bed, his eyebrows furrowed together in deep thought as he tries to wrap his head around it. He gathers the blankets around himself, still utterly silent. 

“I’m good enough.” Keith responds finally, but surprisingly there’s no bite to it. It’s shaky, like he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to prove a point to Lance. He scrubs his hands over his face, shaking his head. “I am good enough exactly as I am, Lance.”

“I didn't say you weren't, I didn't mean it like that! I just want you to see how-"

The glimpse of insecurity vanishes as quickly as it appeared. Keith gets a handle on his raging emotions and stuffs them deep down inside himself accordingly. He wipes his expression clean, back to that untouchable and indifferent smirk.

“I am _ more _ than good enough. They all want me again, every single man I let fuck me, but I just don’t let them have me. I'm the one calling the shots. Not them. You’re lucky enough to be the exception to my rule.” Keith seems so sure of himself, so set on the path he’s on, that Lance doesn’t have the heart to try and argue anymore. He just nods, wincing as he tries not to cry. 

“Am I?” Lance sighs, feeling defeated at this point. He has this sinking feeling in his gut that he can't win here. They’re never going to meet in the middle on this one, not if Keith isn’t willing to give anything whatsoever to the cause. “I don’t _ feel _lucky. I feel cheap and used.”

“I thought I was the whore in this situation?” Keith spits, his tone venomous. Lance doesn’t rise to the challenge there. The fight has left him.

“I don’t know anymore.”

Lance can’t take it. He gets out of the bed and wanders out of the room, uncertain exactly where the front door is but determined to find it on his own. He refuses to ask Keith for help. Refuses to ask him for anything ever again. It’s clear that they really don’t want the same thing here. Lance shouldn’t have ever tried to change him, to make him see what he was missing.

Of course Keith follows him out into the entryway anyway, shirtless and stumbling. He rubs at his eyes, watching Lance get ready to leave with a squint. He doesn’t look like he fully comprehends what’s actually happening, why the air is so tense.

“You’re going home?”

“Yeah. I’ll call a cab.” Lance laughs, the sound humorless. He pulls his jeans on, not even bothering to button his shirt before reaching for the door. He looks back with a sigh because even after all they’ve been through, all the times Keith has hurt him, he still cares. “You were right. You’re just too much for me to handle, Keith Kogane.”

\--

It’s the very next day and Lance strolls into work with a pair of sunglasses on, appropriately hungover after attempting to drink his troubles away. He’s definitely doing the walk of shame toward his office, but his secretary stops him halfway there. She pulls him aside with an apologetic smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“There’s someone here for you, Mr. McClain. They’re waiting in the lobby, would you like me to send them up to your off-”

“No.” Lance says plainly, shaking his head in a hurry. He doesn’t care if the president is waiting on him in the lobby right now, he doesn’t have a second to spare for them. He just wants to be alone, wants to take this godforsaken day one minute at a time to get through it. “Tell them to come back another day.”

“But, Lance-”

“No visitors today. None.” Lance says in plain terms, making an ‘X’ with his arms. He turns on his heel and starts toward the privacy of his beloved office. He’s eager to get away from all of his employees and their probing gazes. No one has ever seen Lance McClain look so incredibly unprofessional and he isn’t about to explain why it’s happening now.

He slips into his office in a rush, leaning against the door and taking a deep breath.

Lance notices movement out of the corner of his eye and hurriedly looks up, arms raised to defend himself from whatever intruder showed up in his office uninvited. He realizes too late exactly who he knows that has the guts and the disregard for authority to pull that off. The chair spins around, revealing the dishevelled boy sitting there. He’s shaggy and unkempt, all the coolness of his bad boy persona gone. Never have the few years of age difference between them been more apparent.

Keith looks so small, absolutely vulnerable, uncertain in himself in a way that Lance hasn’t really felt for years. Even through all of the break-ups and the heartbreak, Lance had always been comfortable with himself at the core of it, confident in exactly who he was. His confidence had never been an act. Not like Keith’s had been.

A long bout of silence follows, Keith absolutely refusing to make eye contact with him again. Lance is just about to his breaking point. He wants to just kick him out of his office at this point, if he’s not going to make any effort at all. He had no right to sneak in here, Lance could call the cops on him if he was a meaner person. 

As it is, he can’t even bring himself to speak. He stays there, waiting and wanting, holding on to every micro-reaction Keith gives him while he struggles to find his words.

When he finally hears it, Lance can barely believe his ears. He steps closer, crossing the room shortly thereafter until he’s standing in front of Keith’s chair staring down at him curiously. Keith is struggling to compose himself, sniffling quietly, hanging his head low. He says it again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re_ sorry _?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Keith chokes out, genuinely distressed. He blinks back tears, bottom lip trembling. He seems to be struggling, but he forces himself to look up and meet Lance’s gaze through his tears. “I swear. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. I just don’t know how to do anything else. I’ve never been with someone like you, someone that had nothing but good intentions, nothing but love to give. You were… the best thing that could have happened to me. I needed you.”

“What am I supposed to say here, Keith?” Lance sighs, crossing the room and falling into his own seat. Keith is on his feet in a second, walking around the desk to sit on the edge of it just like old times. He kicks his foot against Lance’s, a faint smile twitching at his lips. Lance is trying desperately not to get his hopes up, but he can’t help but start to grin back. 

“You aren’t supposed to say anything, you said your piece last night. This is on me. It’s my turn to share how I’m feeling and where I stand.” Keith seems determined, like he’s been working himself up to this all night long. Lance’s expression is unbreakable now, the widest smile he can manage on his lips. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up again, but it’s never stopped him before and it won’t now.

He still wants this to work just as much as he had before.

“Okay, go on. Tell me where you stand. I’ve been wondering for so fucking long.”

“Just give me _ one _ more chance, I swear I’ll get it right this time. I want this. I want to be yours. I want to be with one person. I want to have something meaningful. I want to be good enough for you, I want to _ really _ believe that I am.” The words rush past Keith’s lips one after another, spilling out so quickly they’re borderline difficult to decipher. 

Lance manages to keep up though, even placing his hands on Keith’s knees halfway through and soothingly rubbing over his legs while he speaks. Keith just looks so far from his comfort zone, out of his element. All of the fighting from before, all of the hurt, it’s so easily forgotten now that Keith is in front of him again and asking for forgiveness. 

“I accept your apology.” Lance answers finally, patting his legs in invitation. Keith clambers down off the desk in record time, practically pouncing on him. Keith settles in his lap, throwing his arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. This is so different from the first time they’d met though, and neither one of them wants to let go. Lance buries his face into the collar of Keith’s jacket, inhaling deeply. He wants to memorize this feeling, wants to hold onto it the next time things get hard between them. 

He’s sure they will, if he’s being honest. Being with Keith is nothing like being with Allura, it’s a different breed of love entirely, but he’s starting to think this is the spark he was looking for all along. It won’t be easy, it won’t come naturally to them, they have a lot to work out together. But if Keith is willing to put the work in, Lance will always meet him halfway.

He pulls back, leaning their foreheads together and looking deep into Keith’s familiar eyes. It doesn’t make sense, but he feels like they’re deeper now, like he can see more of Keith there than he ever could before. “Let’s give this a shot, huh? Our best effort?”

“Lance.” Keith laughs wetly, swiping at his eyes to gather the tears there before they spill. He takes a deep breath, looking tense for a long second, long enough to have Lance worrying about what he was trying to say. And then he continues out of nowhere, on a whim when the wind carried him right, when the emotion became too big to swallow down and ignore another second longer. “Lance, I love y-”

Lance cuts him off. He interrupts him with a kiss, pressing their lips together and tasting the words Keith was trying to say instead. He’s not sure that they’re really at that stage yet, and he doesn’t want Keith to rush into it and regret it later. He can wait. He’d rather wait. He wants to be sure without a shadow of a doubt that when Keith says it, he means it. He means it more than he’s ever meant it before.

Lance pulls back from the kiss, smile still shining.

“Slow down, little red, you’re much too fast for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> In the process of writing this I started to think about just how MANY songs I always wanted to write klance fics for but I never bothered because oneshots are such a commitment for me, but this new funky method might be the key to making all the songfics I dream of. I'm just hyped to be able to write something under 20k because lately I've been ON my bullshit, as per usual.
> 
> Alright, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave comments, I love seeing what you guys have to say! The sense of community in the ghosts of the klance fandom, idk, I love it here now. I mean it's sad, don't get me wrong, I miss it being a huge fandom sometimes. But the lack of drama, the passion in the remaining creators....... so tastey
> 
> here's my socials  
twitter/tumblr @melancholymango  
I also have a nsfw acc (18+) on twitter where I post predominantly klance @redgaysonly


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